Suits of brass
by allmydesiredpennamesaretaken
Summary: The Doctor is called to Victorian era Birmingham to help with a number of disappearances and oddly behaving city folk. When Jenny and Clara go missing at night the Doctor and Vastra fear the worst and time is running out to save them as Mr Morgans ambitious plans move forward.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello readers. Writer here. Starting writing this story to go around a few littler things I wanted to write about. I don't own Doctor who. The BBC and Steven Moffat do. Praise him and enjoy. Wait what am I talking about. I own these two characters in this chapter but not the enemy there up against. I'll stop rambling now.**

It was a cold night in Birmingham when Alison chose to take the next step in her investigation. She had been hired to observe. That was all, but the sheer lack of activity around Morgan's Warehouse baffled her. She had been told to expect unusually activity and although an abandoned warehouse in the centre of a bustling area was odd in her books she couldn't shake the feeling that it would not be enough to secure her payment when she returned to Paternoster Row and the Irregulars. She had to consider the extra mouth she had to feed.

Her younger brother crouched alongside her. Wesley was in fact old enough to find a proper job but his pitiable shy and timid nature made him undesirable to the few employers he dared approach. Many times she wanted to smack him upside the head, tell him to get a job, be a man and raise a family but he was still her little brother and because of that she would look after him until he found his feet.

They emerged from the alley, clinging to the shadows as they made their way to the front door. It hadn't been used for at least two weeks. No workers entered and their were no deliveries. She ordered Wesley to keep an eye out as she went to work on the lock. Luck eluded her. She cursed several times as the lock refused to budge to the point where she slammed to door out of frustration, loud enough to have blown their cover had the warehouse in fact not been abandoned.

A tap on her shoulder drew her attention as her brother pointed to where three men were approaching. They forgot the shadows and focused on getting out of there as quickly as possible. Whether or not they were spotted, she couldn't tell.

"What should we do?" Wesley asked, "should we go home?" that was all he wanted in truth but he was a smart man, he knew they would be no home, or bread or fire in the winter if his sister ignored her job.

Alison was ignoring his question, eyes focused on the trio approaching the warehouse door. The one in the middle, the leader, was no taller than herself, wore a long black coat down to his knees where black trousers continued then smart shoes. His skin had a curious shine to it in the lamp light. The two on either side were completely obscured from vision. There faces, arms and legs completely covered in a long black robe. She couldn't see them but they made an unnatural sound as they walked, like engines, which made her wary to approach and she wondered how the neighbours were still sleeping.

She retreated far into the alley and released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She could hear the large front door open and then close as they entered and panicked when she checked for her lock picks, worrying that she had left them in the door and they'd be looking for her. She hadn't but they weren't in her pockets but by the entrance of the alley. She let out another breath as Wesley retrieved them.

There it was, something unusual. The something she needed. Oddly it was her brother that urged her to continue. Pointing her to where several barrels had been stacked and would reach the second floor window of the warehouse. She could see from below that the glass was thin and she wondered how much noise it would make if it smashed. Then she wondered if they would even hear it. There must be many walls between that window and the front door. It was that thought which drove her forward and she soon found herself on level with the window with her legs wobbling on the barrels and her hands shaking where she tried to keep a steady grip on the rock.

She looked down only to regret it. Wesley waited for her in the alley as she tried to fight the feeling of weakness rising from her stomach. She cleared her mind of worries. She could still jump down and run should this go wrong and draw the three men's attention. With this in mind she swung the rock wildly against the window pane so it smashed, then ducked her head under the windowsill as if it would shield her from consequence.

A moment passed. Then two, then three and it seemed her vandalism had gone unnoticed. With more confidence she lifted her leg over the window frame, careful to avoid contact with the sharp re mains, and landed herself quietly into the room.

_It would be more difficult to escape now _she thought and her heart raced in fear that she could be caught any moment. She looked around but the room was in complete darkness. Little of the moons light seeped through the window but she could vaguely make out the shape of a desk and a grand chair, several shelves of files and books, cabinets lined the wall opposite and she couldn't deny being curious about one large one which stretched from floor to ceiling like a closet. It seems she had landed in an office. This was good, this was where important information would be kept. This was bad, this is typically the first room a businessman would go to when returning to their factory. Alison reminded herself to steady her breathing. She remembered the noise the other two made; the mechanical sound she couldn't ignore was no where to be heard. She was safe, as long as she kept her ears sharp she would be safe.

She check the desk first. Pouring herself over paper work which she couldn't read. The mark of currency was clear on some pages but much of the paper had yellowed with age. Whatever financial transaction it spoke of was too old to be relevant. She thought to check the books next but her height wouldn't allow it. Moving the grand chair would give her the lift she needed but would also scrap across the wood of the floor and she feared the noise it would cause. Turning to the cabinets she opened the first one with regrettable haste. Dozens of metal trinkets came pouring out. Bits of brass, steel, iron and copper clinked against each other as they piled on the floor. Door handles, nails, taps and piping and other metal oddities which had not place in an office but none of it was what she needed.

Then she heard it. The sound of metal drawing closer but the cabinet had finished pouring its contents. _They've found me_, she thought and her breath stopped. She had to run, jump out the window and escape with Wesley, run back to London and to safety but...

The long cabinet called to her. It held exactly what she needed she knew it. That or coats, She trampled over the trinkets and swung open the door of the long cabinet. It was exactly what she needed and exactly what she feared. A suit taller than any man and made of brass towered over her, completely still and yet undoubtedly watching her. She feared that if she turned away it would reach out and grab her disapprovingly. It had an odd helm with two metal handles jutting out from where ears would be and rejoining at the top of it's head. Tentatively she reached out and was startled to find that a simple touch could cause it's whole arm to collapse. She picked it up, it was not hollow, quite heavy and there were tubes she couldn't explain but it was what she needed.

She turned to leave when something strong gripped her left shoulder. With a gasp she saw it was the metal suit which had come to life with a cold glow in its eyes. And then came the scream, she soon realised it was hers and unfriendly company would soon join her. Her brother had no doubt heard. She had to warn him. With a short struggle she broke free. This suit wasn't unmanageably strong. She lunged over the window frame and came to a helt. Wondering how deep the remaining shards of glass had just then cut through her abdomen, she saw her brother, his face stricken with shock as she expected. She threw the brass arm she had scavenged over the edge so it landed with a thud by his feet.

"Run!" She yelled, "Run Wesley!"

Another look back into the office she saw the door open and two more suits enter, electricity dancing over their fingers. When she looked back into the alley, she saw that it was empty.

**So this was more of a prologue I assume. The Doctor and Co will appear in the next chapter which I have almost finished and I have the plans written up for at least another 5. Hope you've enjoyed :) Farewell for now.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two. Completed. Enjoy.****  
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The Doctor found that he could get quite a lot done in an hour. Since Clara left he had finished reading three books and filled twice as many chalkboards with equations he was sure was getting him close to... Nothing. He was getting no where with his equations. That was enough for him in order to put down book number four and slouch into his seat in the control room with a bounce and listen to the gentle hum of the console as they drifted through the vortex.

He wondered if Clara had found the wardrobe yet. Twice she had returned to the control room in her nightwear, each time she complained and each time the Doctor smiled to his ship when she left to search again. This time, he heard her before he saw her. Clara's whooping carried through the Tardis corridors into the console room and shortly after,so did she.

"What do you think?" She asked gleefully, evidently pleased in having finally dressed herself. But what did he think? She was dressed appropriately enough for where he said they were going. She wore a brightly colour floral frock which stopped just before her knees, sturdy yet stylish sandals and an array of jewellery. But most notable about her outfit was her very large white sun hat which surrounded her head like an asteroid belt.

"I don't like the hat," he said finally, recalling how his former self was quite fond of ridiculous headgear. "and it's not appropriate for where we're going,' he told her, ignoring the droop in her smile and stance once he had.

"But we're going to a beach planet. How is it not appropriate?"

"We're going to London," He clarified, finally jumping from his seat and passed her to reach the console. She followed with notably less enthusiasm. "1892 and quite some distance from a beach."

"And what's waiting for us in Victorian London," Clara inquired as the Doctor fed their destination into the console.

"Tea, possibly tuberculosis," he began, "and trouble," he turned to her with a grin and flashed her the psychic paper. She found herself smiling back, taking the paper from him and reading as he returned to the console. It was a simple message requesting help, followed by the year and month. It gave no details as to what they were needed for.

"Madame Vastra?" she asked.

"Yep,"

"So as urgent as this may be, you have a time machine and still insist on taking us to rainy day London before a beach planet?"

"I was exaggerating Clara. You would've only been disappointed when you opened those doors." Somehow, she didn't believe him.

" Diamond cliff sides, golden beaches, oceans that boil in the summer..." she recalled him saying.

"Nude tuesdays." he added

"Yeah, we're never doing that again." They both smiled, having come to the consensus that London was there next stop.

"Off you go then," he said before flicking a switch so that a sound ringed through the console. "The Tardis will behave now. Get dressed and I'll meet you outside."

"See you in a bit then," she pushed herself of the console and headed back through halls. He wondered how long the Tardis will have her wonder before she gets there this time. With a few more button pressing and switch flicking the Tardis whirred into action and just as quickly the sound faded as they landed.

The Doctor soon discovered he had landed in the drawing room. He stepped out onto a floor of worksheets and maps, books and files. The shelves were askew, and the fire seemed to be long unused. "No tea then?" he asked the empty room. He gave it a moment but it was clear no one was here to great then. Habit had him check the first of two large doors, finding it locked. He was about to reach for his sonic when his ears caught a noise. When he walk to wards the cold fireplace Clara finally joined him, in a fine dress fit for the era, the Tardis clearly being more co-operative when there was an emergency.

"What have we missed?" she asked, taking note of the room.

The Doctor gave a nearby bookshelf a long swipe over with his finger and , thinking of Jenny, showed the dust to Clara " They've been gone for a while now,"

"Maybe they've gone on holiday."

The Doctor stopped where he stood, actually considering it as a possibility, "Well I'm not watering their plants if that's what they were after! Shhhh... can you hear that?"

"Hear what?" She was answered with silence and only then could she hear it. A light clicking noise in a perfect rhythm of rise and fall.

They looked to each other and then to the direction of the noise; to the far side of the room by the second door where more books had been de-shelved than in any other part of the room. Crouching down simultaneously, they shifted book by book until the source of the clicking became more apparent. They spotted the dull brassy metal before they knew what it was and then it grabbed Clara by the wrist and there was no question. The cyberhand grabbed her wrist so tightly she could no longer use her hand without causing pain. It loosened, only briefly in an attempt to move further up her body. When the Doctor grabbed it by it's elbow it calculated it's success as minimal. Gripping her forearm once more it brought forth a charge of electricity.

"Doctor!"Clara cried as the electricity finally struck her. He reached for his sonic and tried the first setting, then the second and third. Before he was successful, the electricity had already faded and the arm fell limp and lifeless on the floor. He scanned it.

"Dead," he confirmed, then scanned Clara's arm, "that was a bee sting,"

"Really? Felt a lot more like electricity." she rasped between breaths.

"It was on it's last breath Clara. If it couldn't get back to it's body through you, it might as well kill you," He scanned it once more for safety. "Had we arrived any earlier it would've had enough power to do so. But now it's just junk metal," Standing. He grabbed the dead arm and threw it into the empty fireplace.

Clara frowned, rubbing the pain out of her arm, "Why didn't it just climb out the chimney?"

"It's an arm without a brain, you can't exactly fault it for not thinking. Vastra knew about it too. Look they've looked the doors," he demonstrated by rattling the second one. Only then did he notice Clara's discomfort. He stepped forward, took her arm out from where she was cradling it and spread it out in front of him. "It hurts?" he couldn't see through the long sleeves of her dress, but the way she winced was answer enough. For his own sake, he wondered if it was wise to be doing this, to be using his regeneration energy for such trivial matter, the rules could only bend around him so many times. Soon they would catch up and he may not be granted another face. But Clara was no trivial matter. He still saw the distance between them when they talked; the way her eyes avoided him as the warm glow of the energy wrapped around Clara's arm, taking away any pain. "Better?"

"Thanks" she said simply, but sincerely. "So Vastra, Jenny and Strax where are they? I mean this is still there home right?"

"Yep, we must have missed them. How long has it been since I got their message?"

"About 30 minutes," Clara answered, oblivious to the Doctor now scanning his psychic paper, and the air around him. She browsed the work left on the floor. Every now and then she glanced to the arm in the fireplace, then rubbed her own, then glanced at the Doctor and wondered which one was making her the most uncomfortable. Shaking idle thoughts from her mind she focused on the map laid out in front of her. Several points were marked but she couldn't work out there significance nor did she recognise the map as one of London.

"One week. My timing's a bit out."

"They've left all their work here, maybe we can find out where they were going."

"Yeah. You do that. I'm going to do something else." he replied before stepping over the map to retrieve the arm and then closed himself within his Tardis. Clara wished he had opened one set of the door first. She really wanted tea.

**So I sort of imagine this happening not too long after deep breath for the Doctor and Clara. (I may be getting my dates mixed up by the way) and at this point she's still not completely warmed up to the new Doc yet. Whether I'm putting that across right? Who knows?**


	3. Chapter 3

Alison Paige was dead. It was a thought that took a while to sink in. When she had told him to run, he ran. He did so with out thought as to what was happening. All he knew was there was trouble and he had been told to run away. At first, almost forgetting the metal limb at his side, he took to the streets and the alleys in search of safety. But what if he had been followed? If he ran to his sisters safehouse, he might just put them in danger. Instead he ran, turning back every now and then to see if he had been followed. He started to recognise the streets. Making the decision in his mind to turn, find a street he didn't recognised and run to wherever it led. He would take them as far away from the other as possible. To keep them safe.

He did that for a day and a night and he had found himself in a more wealthy areas of the city, a great distance from the warehouse and its occupants before he started to think perhaps he hadn't been followed. He earned some odd looks from passers by, his clothes were stained from sweat and dirt and were torn at the knees. And this was from before he spent the day running. Many must have assumed him a pickpocket and kept their distance. He was tired and exhaustion gave him a sickly appearance. When a gentleman came near, inquiring about his state, and the object he held close to him as a child would a blanket, he lashed out with slurs and violent gestures until he was left alone once more.

He hoped his sister's colleagues would be looking for them now. They had been gone long enough to have caused concern. Later, he found out they had been doing so, only unsuccessfully. He had returned before the end of the second night to the inn five of them, now turn four, had been sharing. He told them of the night Alison was taken, of the three men, the break in and the arm she had given him. It wasn't until Jenny's face dropped into one of grief when he passed her the arm that he began to believe it was possible his sister might not be coming home after all.

Holding on to hope, he asked to stay when the other headed back to London. Two other irregulars would be going with her only they wouldn't be returning. They had done their job and Jenny assured him she would be back within a week with the help they needed. Paying the landlady rent for another month Jenny left him to his sorrows. One week turned in to two before there was a knock at the door and he finally accepted. Alison Paige was dead.

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><p>Vastra watched the scenery unfold from the window of her carriage. It was something she usually enjoyed about a long coach trip, to watch the grey drear of London part and give way to green fields and woodland, quaint villages and waterways. It was all so primitive by her species' standard;humans had so much to achieve before they could be comparable. But the countryside at the dawn of summer when the trees were at their greenest succeeded in doing what London rarely could; they made her think of home and it didn't make her feel sad. And yet, today the sky was appropriately grey and it seemed rain was not far off. She tore herself away from the scenery and looked to her wife, still nursing a tender mark on her neck above her collar where the cyberhand had attacked her. Now she found she couldn't look away and was feeling regret at allowing her to travel back to Birmingham, especially now knowing what they were up against when it seemed the aid they sought would not arrive.<p>

Seemingly noticing her distress, Jenny entwined their hands and squeezed gently, giving her a smile that promised all will be well. In time the countryside rolled away from sight and they had reached outer parts of Birmingham. Humans seemed to swell around them like waves breaking around a lone rock. Through the veiled curtain they could see Strax's presence was already drawing some attention as the odd on looker stopped to point. Weary from travel and worry, Vastra was eager to be indoors.

"Jus' 'round the corner now Ma'am," Jenny informed her after a time. They had passed the multitude of humans either idle, young or female from the slums. Here, the streets were wide enough for two carriages and humans walked with purpose in sharp clothing, paying little notice to them as they went about their day. As they turned the corner Vastra could see it. 'The Bird In Hand' read the sign on the side of the small red brick corner building. Jenny had told her it was nothing luxurious, but it was clean and they asked no questions.

"Do you intend to see to our guest dear?"

"I think I probably should. If 'e's still 'ere. 'e may still want to find 'is sister." There was a sudden jolt in the carriage and the sound of Strax calling the horse to a halt. "What d'you want to do with him?" she asked as Vastra lowered her veil.

"I'd like to talk with him," Vastra replied as she stepped out of the carriage in what was most certainly rain, "Perhaps I might understands what happened better if I heard the events from him. But if it is the cybermen like we think...and if there here in force," she changed her tone, noticing Jenny frown as she helped her out of the carriage, " then I fear your friend is truly lost."

"I'll get our room sorted." she said with sorrowful acceptance, taking one suitcase in each hand, hers and Vastra's, before walking toward the door of the inn. Strax would bring his own in turn, for now, he brought the horse back to a trot and drove off to find a place to rest the mare.

* * *

><p>He had overheard the Irregulars talk about Madame Vastra, some of what they said brought them into fits of loud laughter only for it to stop rather abruptly whenever Jenny entered the room. Alison had never joined such talks. Most Irregulars spoke highly of Vastra but there had always been a few who were hired more for their skill than their integrity. Unfortunately, Wesley had often found himself in their company, staring into his full glass at the pub whilst his sister questioned a bar patron. They would poke and tease at him and he made himself smaller in his chair and thought of home.<p>

Once, not too long ago in fact, he asked Alison about the affliction Vastra supposedly had which the others found so funny. He had never seen the women, she hadn't hired him, he just tagged along at his sister's request. Her face hardened at the question. 'She is one of an ancient lizard species from before humanity,' she had told him. He glanced over to Jenny who smiled and nodded that she had been correct. Then he felt a awkward smile tug at his lips, just slightly. He assumed they had been playing a joke but the next day all laughter among the Irregular had stopped. They didn't tease him that day, or the next, but he began to find it preferable to the stabbing glare he now received.

The second knock at the door promised to take him Vastra. Jenny had knocked earlier to see if he was there and he had been sitting forlornly at the edge of the bed. He had kept himself busy the past two weeks but this morning he allowed himself to despair about what had happened, and ponder on what he was to do next. Jenny had joined him at the bed's end, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. She and his sister had been childhood friends. He had been too young to know her but he knew her name; everyone had stopped speaking it when she had disappeared for good from their neighbourhood at the age of 18; only for her to turn up many years later, dressed not too dissimilar from an upper class lady; standing at their fathers grave, faced with homelessness and starvation, she offered her sister a job as the eyes and ears of Paternoster Row. Perhaps he, as her brother and only remaining family, had inherited her kindness.

That was all over a hour ago and she had reappeared, dressed in a tidy maid's dress which was a shock from the combat-ready waistcoat and trouser he had usually seen her wear. She lead the way through the hallway, the light-hearted ruckus of early drinkers carried up the stairs and accompanied the clopping of both their shoes against the uncarpeted wood floor. When he entered the room, a small practical abode not unlike his own but noticeably cleaner, it struck him as odd that the women he had been brought to see was completely veiled with not an inch of skin showing. _Surely her 'affliction had just been a joke, _he thought to himself, _maybe she's a widow. _ He found himself unable to take his eyes off her, and she him. Jenny positioned herself behind a chair opposite Vastra's and gestured for him to sit. Once doing so, she left to join her mistress's side. It all seems a bit intimidated. The strange women easily towered over him in her chair and he felt small and vulnerable where he sat. _Was that a...hiss?_ He wondered as he recoiled slightly in his chair. His heart was racing at the tension and he found his throat longing for a drink downstairs would have to offer. Casually, she instructed, and he retold his story.

**Darn it I was hoping to get to 2000 words in this chapter. Oh well, 1672 will have to do. I haven't started work on the next chapter yet so it may be a while. Had to rearrange some things in the plan but I suspect the next chapter will be staring the Doctor, Clara and Strax. Hope you've enjoyed. And thanks to all those who've been viewing, following and favouriting. Brings me many happies it does. See you all soon. :) **


	4. Chapter 4

Strax watched the humans scurry with a new found haste. It was something the mare loath-fully lacked as he drove through Birmingham's streets. Whilst it's fellow earthlings fled for cover she carried the carriage leisurely through the rain despite Strax's instructions. His thick cloak had quickly became saturated in the heavy downfall and he fear it would not be much longer before he suit suffered the same fate. He remembered the directions, Jenny had given him to a suitable stable; two lefts, a right and another left down down the road from where Vastra and Jenny had departed. Bringing the horse to a halt once more he surveyed the stables with a critical eye. It was surrounded. A two tier building enclosed in a courtyard where the neighbouring structures towered over it with enviable scope. Inside the courtyard two carriages were taking heavy fire and through the large wooden doors of the stables Strax could see their respective horses devouring fresh hay in the dim lamp light.

Upon sighting the first human, Strax dropped himself from the carriage seat and plodded over to the small thing. He had been correct, the cloak hadn't lasted much longer and now his suit stretched and protested against his frame with each movement.

"Boy," he summoned, and the startled youth turned from his work of shifted hay into the stables, staring at him with wide eyes and a still expression. "The horse demands shelter. See to it immediately or you will be obliterated!" commanded Strax before adding, "here is your charge," he reached for a pouch of coins from an inside pocket in his cloak but before he could the child had dropped his pitch fork and ran through a doorway, beyond a wooden counter and passed the stables, calling for his father all the while.

The boy did not return. Almost immediately a large glum man came forward in his place. His clothes stank of soiled hay and alcohol. Skin sagged at his mouth and eyes though the colour in his hair spoke of a younger age the rest of him couldn't not feign. Acknowledging his latest customer he said, "Odd little fellow arn't ya?" he scoffed, "Sammy comes running to me, sayin' a dwarf was makin' threats and talkin' funny. What is it you 'ere for?"

Strax straightened his posture, clearing his throat before he announced, "I am here because Madame Vastra's horse and carriage require shelter and maintenance for an indeterminate period of time." the mans eyebrows knitted in concentration, "I am lead to believe this duty is yours and i bring sufficient payment for a weeks service. Do you accept?"

"What was that name again?" was the immediate response and Strax replied with caution, "Madame Vastra's name is irrelevant in this matter. Do you accept my request for service." There was a silence. What was the man contemplating?

"Sammy!" The man bellowed and the floppy haired boy from earlier reappeared through the far doorway, evidently not at ease. "Bring this man's 'orse in. Then close them door, they're lettin' in a draft." The child obeyed, "As for you Sir," he continued, now addressing Strax, "come over to the counter an' we'll discuss payment."

"Excellent," Strax proclaimed.

"I'll just er, call the boys in first. They'll wanna check over you're 'orse as soon as possible." They had reached the counter, each standing on opposite sides. "Be right back Mr," and then he left.

Strax waited and waited and the boy worked in the background amongst the horses' odd trot and whinny. When the wooden doors closed and the stable was dark save for where the few lamp lights favoured, Strax began to wonder where the man had wondered off to. He knew that his waiting was unnecessary, that he could leave the payment on the counter and saunter back to the Bird in Hand knowing full well that the mare would be cared for. He was close to acting on this thought when the boy distracted him. More so, the curious sniffling noises it made as it swept the hay around idly. He had seen it before and as a nurse it baffled him that of all the human and alien ills he could destroy, the cure for this eluded him. 'Crying', Madame had called it, when he was apparently 'not helping' during one of Ms Jennys such fits.

Walking away now seemed less appealing than the opportunity to learn of this ill. Bracing himself, he walked to the boy, at first staying silent as he tried to remember how Vastra delt with such situations. She often just used words. Sometimes, if the victim they had saved had been particularly pathetic with their tears, Jenny would place and hand on their shoulder before speaking. Mimicking this, he pushed the lad over into the hay.

"What the heck?!" it exclaimed, bringing itself back onto two feet and pawing at its eyes. It sort of worked.

"Boy. You are young, fit and have the potential to grown into a fierce warrior," he lied, somewhat proud of himself, "please stop crying."

He couldn't see where the child was staring off into, the light wouldn't allow such clarity but it was evident that his attempts had failed as within seconds he had a gasping noise to now contend with and soon after, full blown teary wails. Strax was dumbstruck, he had no idea what to do with the crying human. He had grown to like the horse; the horse never cried. Suddenly he remember his medical apparatus among other things had been left in the now parked carriage outside. A desperate attempt, he shook the boy lightly at the shoulders but only served to aggravate the noise. Now the child curled in on itself on the hay as if it had been stuck down.

"Have you been injured? A blade? A grenade?" he asked, trying to recall the causes of Ms Jenny's episodes as he continued, "Are you suffering abdominal pains? Feelings of physical inadequacy?" at last he sighed, nothing seemed to be working. "Do you need to see a veterinarian?"

When asked, a whooshing noise followed by a draft, rose the distant hay into a whirlwind and set the horses into a frenzy. _It's wailing has stopped,_ he noted as the boy seemed intrigued on the sight of a blue box materializing in front of him.

* * *

><p><strong>So basically this is a Chapter about a guy going to park a horse. Not the most exciting I know. This chapter would've been a lot longer, the Doctor and Clara haven't even come into it yet but I fear many chapter will be like this from now on. Bitesize pieces, from a writing perspective, as I have a lot on at the moment. Knowing myself if I don't upload this relatively regularly there will come a day where it isn't uploaded at all...or the next day...or the next day...or the next day.<strong>

**Hope this isn't a huge problem for you readers. If it makes you feel better, the next chapter is almost half way done, and there will be fiya,**** death and misery *evil grin***


	5. Chapter 5

**Yay I've reached over 2000 words! but that perhaps the only happy thing in this chapter. I fear all the possible spelling errors and general f up in this chapter. I have gone through it many times but i'm still wary. Anyway...Enjoy.**

"You're going to re-activate it?!" asked Clara, as the Doctor whizzed around the console, the cyberhand resting on his own as he ran the sonic screwdriver across the now open circuitry.

"Just giving it a jolt of power. It's still programmed to return to the rest of itself. Plug it into the organic interface and it should take us straight to it."

In the time it had taken the Doctor to realise this option, Clara had thoroughly searched the files and paperwork scattered across the floor of the drawing room; even found some letters from Jenny to Vastra which she briefly skimmed through before it began to feel invasive. She deduced that the three had travelled to Birmingham in the Midlands where there were over 100 cases of mysterious disappearances and a two locations circles on the map, both factories. She had even found out where they might be staying but all that was brushed aside when he announced his plan.

Over 100 disappearance, and cybermen. The Doctor face lit up when the cyberhand jerked it's finger out like claws then inserted it into the glowing panel on the console. It could take us straight to their base, she thought before saying, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Probably not, but we can get out quickly if we need to." he assured her then the TARDIS whirred into flight, vanishing from the drawing room of Paternoster Row and reappearing...Somewhere. The TARDIS landed with a thoom and the pair both jump to the nearest screen, leaving the hand in the interface as they surveyed the outside from safety.

Clara squinted. Wherever they were it was dark. The light on the top of the TARDIS helped somewhat, she could see horses thrashing dangerously in their stables and two small figure keeping their distance. "I think you've landed us in a stable." She looked up and the Doctor was no longer at her side. Her next glance at the screen showed a third figure in the light by the horses, stroking their noses and evidently calming them. Smiling, she pushed herself away from the console and made for the door. Stepping outside, the smell was strong, the three horse neighed contently and she could hear heavy rain assualting the large wooden door in front of her. Despite the light the TARDIS offered she felt compelled to take one of the near by oil laterns. Strax, as she could now tell it was him, had already approached the Doctor and she caught them in mid conversation,

"-equested you're assistance 7 days ago," he punctuated.

"And now we're here. Where are the others." the Doctor asked and Strax replied, " Questioning a human at a nearby inn...We've only just arrived," he confessed and all interpretal agrresion had disapated from his tone. As they conversed they seemed almost blind to the young girl watching the scene just a few steps back, her eyes were sore and red, hair wet and sticking to her face and neck.

"Who's this then?" she asked Strax, having drawn him away from his conversation, however it was the girl who answered.

"Sam, ma'am." she answered, trepidation clear in her tone. She couldn't have been any older than ten.

"Hello Sam. That short for Samantha is it?" she nodded and Clara crouched down so their eyes were level. The Doctor quickly join her. She found it odd that the girl didn't question the appearance of a mysterious blue box. "I'm Clara and this here is the Doctor," he gave a friendly smile at the mention of his name, "and I see you've already met Strax." she continued, "Now, do you want to tell us what's had you crying?" she asked wiping a way a stray tear as it fell. Sam recoiled, and silent tears fell heavier. The only noise she made were the sounds of her rapid, sharp breathing. This worried them both. At first it appeared the girl was unfazed at the manner of their arrival but it was clear something had her panicking. "Hey, that's enough of that," she said calmly, placing the oil latern on the floor and picking the small girl up in her arms. Carrying the girl closer to the warm glow of the TARDIS and a shiny white coated horse she had been caring for, the Doctor lingered around the horses for a bit but Strax wander off to the far side of the room.

The Doctor heard the horses huffs and told the girl from a distance "He likes what you've done with his coat. He says it's never been felt so clean before."

At the girl's scrunched forehead Clara clarified, "He speaks horse." and that brought a small smile which echoed on all their faces. The Doctor walk over to Strax and before long they were deep in conversation.

"Do you know what a doctor does Sam?" she nodded, "A doctor helps people. And the Doctor here is no ordinary doctor. How many doctors do you know who can talk to horses and appear in blue boxes,"

"None," she replied timidly.

"Exactly. This one's special. And if you tell us what's going on I guarantee you he will try and make it better."

She didn't seem convinced, eyeing the Doctor suspiciously and talking as if he wasn't there. "Is he a scary doctor?"

"No. No of course not? What makes you think that?"

"Mum's got a scary doctor," he voiced turned into a whisper, "they're downstairs now. Dad's got the metal men guarding her,"

She froze. The Doctor said the cyber hand would take them to the source of the signal, the cyber base. She held the girl more tightly now.

"Doctor," she too whispered, shaking away her the shock when she called the second time, "Doctor!"

"Clara, get down!"

She did just in time to avoid the shot of a laser to her head. From two doors the cybermen march into the stables. Forcing the Doctor and Strax to back away from the counter. At that single shot the horses began to panic. She heard the rope that bound the white one snap but it was still confined in the pen. Keeping Sam shielded in front of her she made her way behind the tardis, avoiding two more shots as the metal men made they're advance.

Cautiously, she put the girl down on the ground and peer her head around the tardis. With neither of them armed the Doctor and Strax were in no position to attack. A backwards glance from the Doctor made their plan clear.

"Run!" he told her.

Clara opened the door only to find it locked and she bashed her head against the wood.

"Oh c'mon! This is not the time to be doing this!" she scolded the machine but as she pulled on the handled it disappeared from her grip; dematerializing from the stables in the midst of an assault, leaving them stranded.

The white horse had broke through the pens fence only to be shot dead by the nearest brass cyberman. On it's fall the oil lantern carelessly left on the floor shattered and a flame spread across the straw.

"Doctor the tardis is gone!"

"Try the door then."

"But it's gone!" she reasoned, shielding the crying child between her and the wall.

"The other door. Strax, get it open!"

"Yes Sir." he acknowledged and like Clara and the boy, edged his way closer to the large stable door.

The Doctor made his way around the flames, noticing that even the cybermen made an effort to avoid the thick of it. _Six cybermen, _he counted. Not enough to cause those 100 disappearance but still a dangerous number.

"Get outside," he told the others, "I'll draw them off," not that he had much choice, the flames now blocked the only known exit.

"Doctor you can't st-"

"Get out of here Clara!" he turned to see Strax leading the pair out the now open door. The sudden wind whipped the flames higher, burning the ropes which bound the remaining two horses who remained caged behind the wooden beam of their pen. _Damn whoever made the screwdriver not to work on wood. _The Doctor cursed silently. Whilst dodging their fire the cybermen had him pinned by the counter and halted.

"Incorrect information extracted from human male. Silurian detective not present. You will be saved. You will become cyberform." They're weapons into into the casing of their arms as they went to surround him.

"No I'm not Silurian, you've noticed," he began, swiftly lifting himself on and over the counter and into the door frame behind it before they could fully encase him, "I'm not human though." he backed against the wall, tapping it and determining that it was just a single wall of brick with nothing behind it."Check your data banks for the Doctor." _Let them fire. _he thought.

"Data banks searched. 'the Doctor' not found"

"What?!" he exclaimed.

"Scans reveal non human DNA. Take him for experimental upgrading."

They had him trapped. They blocked the upwards staircase and no longer had any intentions to fire. Slipping under an outreached arm he ran through a door they did not have blocked and to his surprise they did not follow. Once the door was closed he turned to find a case of stairs leading downwards. _A cellar, _he thought,_ no wonder they didn't follow._

With little choice he follow the flight of steps. The heat from the burning stables seeped through the stone ceiling and he found himself tugging at the collar of the shirt uncomfortably. At the foot of the stairs was another door, and when he opened the darkness was broken. Not by the flicking glimmer of lamps but the cold constant glow of a cyber converter. It must be have been faulty. Otherwise the woman confined in it's hooks and cables would be fully converted and attacking him. He approached sorrowfully, his safety was assured, even if she proved to be hostile the machine rendered her powerless to attack.

"I'm sorry." he said sincerely. Her legs had already been lost and encased in brass as with one of her arms and her ear leading down to and covering her mouth. It flickered a soft blue and he figured she must be sobbing but the machine wouldn't allow any sound. "I can make this quick," he offered, moving before she could even attempt to reply. There was no other way to save her; nothing but conversion from this point. He plucked a wire from the machine overhead and tried to face her; her eyes were closed tightly. "This will sting a bit," he said reaching around her neck with the wire. The metal was sharp enough to cut through the skin, far enough so that he could step away and it would stayed in place. "but it will be quick," he promised.

"I'm sorry," he said once more, pointing the sonic toward the machine, he overloaded the power so that both human and machine perish permanently.

The cellar turned dark save for the dying glow of the converter. The smell of wood burning above and flesh now over powering. The Doctor turned his gaze to the figure it lit up in the corner behind him. An empty shell of a cyberman, most likely to be used as spare parts but they hadn't got around to it yet. It had lost an arm though.

"So you're the piece of junk we followed," he concluded before giving it a harsh kick.

In the short time that followed the Doctor found a manhole cover and mentally debated whether it was either a foul escape route or a door to the cyber lair. His anger caused him to hope for the latter. He descended, landing with a shallow splash and thankful for the fact he no longer wore converses. With the sonic he caused the metal of the cover to expand. No one would get through it easily, and now he had to find his way back to Clara.

* * *

><p>He swore the rained messed with his machinery. The medical scanner he had retrieve from the carriage, alongside he firearm he now regretted leaving behind (he knew his de conditioning of his military life would be a bad idea.), was not co-operative. He had failed to save the boy..girl...child, Clara grew so protective of in the past few minutes. She had taken a shot, no one had seen it but she had taken it nonetheless and it proved to be fatal. Clara held her and ignored the audience that appeared around them, gawking and murmuring about the spectacle in front of them. It was like they'd never seen a burning building before. Nothing special in Strax's eyes.<p>

The girl talked about her mother, and asked about the Doctor, and asked if he would help her mother. Clara cried and nodded and when the child finally slipped away she had order Strax to run scans, to find out who was alive in there. The chilling howl of the last horse dying dampened their hopes, by then the scanner allowed Strax to return to Clara through the swarm of humans in the courtyard.  
>"No signs of life beyond the cybermen. No humans. No time lords." he informed, but Clara was far away. Her damp hair shrouded her face, and he couldn't read her expression.<p>

"She could've been saved."Clara turned her head in the direction of the voice. It was not one she recognised, but he clearly spoke to them. A hooded figure approached them and Clara was immediately on edge. Standing from the wet patch the rain had made around her, she drew the dead child in more protectively as if it were still possible for him to harm her. "Had you and you're friend not interfered, she would be alive."

She turned on him fiercely, "Who the hell are you?!"

"Amongst this crowd they're are people who will grieve the girl. I'd advise you not to feel shame when you have no choice in leaving her."

"Do you know her?" Strax asked, the hood of the stranger turned toward the burning building.

"I knew her mother." his voice saddened, surveying the scene, "how unfortunate."

"What are you?" asked Clara.

"You're salvation" the stranger replied.

He turned and disappeared into the crowd of onlookers. Clara thought to follow, but what was she to do with Sam? She looked through the crowds, looking for someone who was also looking. Surely there was a father, brother, uncle, aunt or anyone worried about this little girl. She stayed a while longer as most of the crowd dispersed and the services arrived to deal with what remained of the fire. No one came forward.

"Miss Clara," Strax called, "We must return Madame Vastra as soon as is possible,"

She have to leave her. Slowly, she lowered Sam's body onto the ground in the middle of the courtyard so she could be easily spotted, and brushed the damp wires of her hair away from her face before reluctantly following Strax.

**Sooo...is the T rating still appropriate? I'm not the best judge. Hope you've enjoyed. Many thanks to all who've made it to this page. Feel free to leave me a comment. I'm not lonely or anything...not at all. My assumption is that the next chapter will be smaller and the one after that will be a trip to the pub.**


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